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Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Jan-9-2013 07:52

(Missed this space. Maybe we can revive it. I sure hope so. Not a great start, but should anyone join, I'd be really happy.)

It had been a long run.
Travelling all over the world to chase after Lazarus Metzger had been tired.
All she wanted now was to sleep.
As the young woman entered the small apartment building, she laughed quietly to herself.
One more time, she repeated her favourite sentence.
"Reformed burglars never sleep, dear."
Locking the door behind her, Elizabeth March - at least that was how she was known at the moment - got rid of her shoes and took a deep sigh.
Fixing herself a drink, she walked up to her desk. Pieces of paper were there, just like she had left them... right?
"Whatever they wanted, they didn't find it. Doesn't matter."
Nobody had broken in. So the only possible conclusion was that someone had paid - well - for her key. Not important. The money in the drawer was there, to the last penny. It wasn't cash they were after.
After a softly mumbled curse, she went in the bathroom for a long bath. And then, out back in the street.
The Tricky Mister was the place when you needed information - or maybe even bumping into an old friend.


Trusted Informer

Jan-30-2013 09:14

Lawliettine took a half hearted sip of her whisky and then pushed it away with a groan. Some days she could drink like a sponge and some days she couldn't touch a drop. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't. Not even when she really needed a stiff drink.

"Too bad I already paid for that," she joked, more to herself, than to the person who'd just come in.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-2-2013 17:58

It was dark, it had to be. Grem rarely liked going out in the daytime. New York was loud in the nighttime, but less so than in the daytime. She had recently flown from London to New York to get her hands on The Gilded Atlas of The Moors. Now that task was done, a drink sounded fantastic.

"I might be dead, but even vampires need to recuperate." Grem reassures herself that it was completely fine to let loose.

She orders herself a Manhattan and looks around for an appropriate spot to nest. The main bar is full of patrons, the tables to the left of the Tricky Mister is filled with groups of people. Grem frowns, and moves toward the back. ALL the way to the back is the Shady Character. The frown turns to a scowl as he had threatened her earlier about ending her career. Grem was definitely not going to sit with her back to THAT person.

Two seats open at the bar, as the old man hurriedly rushes his drunken young date out the door. Grem rolls her eyes, normally she would care enough to teach someone like him a thing or two about preying on the weak but tonight the girl is going to learn the hard way. She sits down next to a woman, right as the woman pushes her drink away with a groan.

Grem took a sip and glances back at Shady. Shady notices her presence and glares. Grem bares her fangs as a warning and returns to her drink.

Trusted Informer

Feb-4-2013 05:22

Lawliettine closes her eyes and drums light blue painted nails on her cheek, as she slowly takes in the sounds all around her.

Ice clinking against glass. The slurred ranting and table thumping of the people behind her, arguing over their faction loyalties. A man laughing with his mouth half full of crunchy peanuts. A sobbing sound in the corner, as a young boy cries into his empty glass.

But there's something different about the person right next to her. Not a sound or a smell, not something she can quite put her finger on.

Lawliettine turns to the newcomer with a small smile of curiosity.

"An interesting fan. Mind if I ask where you got it?"

Washed Up Punter

Feb-4-2013 22:53

Grem hears the question and looks around to make sure it was not directed toward anyone else at the bar. It had been awhile since she last made casual conversation with someone. Intimidating and charming her way to the answers she needed didn't quite count towards that history. Grem sets her drink down and glides her index finger along the length of the fan.

"Shanghai, China." Grem turns her seat a quarter turn to get a better look at the person she is speaking it.

It is a beautiful brunette lady, very poised and very charming. There was something about this woman that would make you at ease just being next to her. Grem is nearly sure that this woman is the type that HER charm would not work against.

Grem places the fan on the counter and pushes it next to half empty glass. "Phoenix and dragon. Yin and yang. Are you familiar with the myths?"

She motions to Cyrus to refill her drink and the stranger's drink.

Trusted Informer

Feb-5-2013 05:41

Lawliettine smiled gratefully as golden whisky filled her glass. All of a sudden her dry spell was inexplicably lifted, & she drank with a thirst that had been missing earlier this evening.

"I know very little of Chinese mythology," she admitted, "but yes, I'm familiar with Yin and Yang. Contrasting forces that complement eachother. I once had a bracelet with the black and white symbol of Yin and Yang. Must have misplaced it now."

She turned to the striking woman beside her.

"Apologies for not having introduced myself earlier. I'm Lawliettine. Private investigator, vagabond and shape shifter."

She chuckled at the last bit, fully expecting the lady to dismiss it as a silly joke. Just the way everyone else very conveniently did.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-5-2013 22:00

Grem's grip on her drink tightens. She forgets to swallow and the drink burns her throat. Several coughs erupt from her throat following the awkward swallow.

'A shape shifter?!' The thought races across her mind. Surely she is kidding. Grem is well aware that she once did not believe in the myth of the vampires, that is until she became one. If this supernatural race is able to exist...surely can the other races...But why would she choose to disguise herself among mortals?

Grem realizes that she has not responded to Lawlietine, a slightly awkward silence hangs between them. Time to wrap up that thought.

"And I am Grem. Moonlighting as a I suppose you can say I am in a way a investigator. "

She snaps back to her surrounding, taking in the smell of vomit creeping from the dingy restrooms as well as the glass against glass from the people around her.

Grem's voice drops to a hush whisper. "You would be wise to not announce that so loudly and in this place."

This was a mystery, who is this charming Lawliettine?

Trusted Informer

Feb-6-2013 04:08

Lawliettine's smile froze on her face as she got a reaction quite different from the usual dismissive snort or forced giggle. Grem, the beautiful newcomer, hadn't seemed to take the revelation jokingly. What kind of person believed in the myth of shapeshifters? Surely not the average person who refused to accept the existence of other beings.

Not sure of whether to be wary or excited, Lawliettine decided to test the waters a bit more.

"Nobody here would believe me," she said, with a conspiratorial wink. "They'd just dismiss me as a mad drunk."

Before she could offer Grem a refill of her glass, they were interrupted as a short balding man abruptly jumped in between them, nearly sprawled across the bar counter.

"You there," he panted, pointing at the bartender. "Santanelli sent me. You got something she wants?"

What followed was a rather weird session of the bartender playing dumb much to the man's annoyance, and then springing him with questions about mystery authors which he took to answering, with the practised air of someone who does this sort of thing all the time.

The man scratched his bald patch as he snatched the small envelope given him by the bartender, and was about to race out the door once again, nearly tripping over an empty glass on the floor.

"Careful, buddy" Lawliettine called out. "Don't be in such a hurry."

The man half turned, "Oh yeah? And what do YOU know of being in a hurry? Are you the city's mob boss?"

Lawliettine giggled. "I could be if I wanted to."

The man snorted, obviously not understanding the hidden meaning, and ran out of the bar.

Lawliettine sighed and turned back to Grem.

"Sorry about the interruption. Care for a refill?"

Just then, there were gunshots outside the bar.

David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:04

Captain Dave Adams, MD, paused just outside of the Tricky Mister and looked around. It was early evening, and he was exhausted. It had been an incredibly long day. He'd lost two patients earlier, one to massive blood loss and one to extreme shock, he'd gone through a boatload of paperwork with Lou to try and get supplies on their way to England (not his most favorite of chores), and to top it all off, he'd received a small yellow envelope in his in-box at the end of the day. He didn't have to open it to know he'd been recalled to active duty. Wahoo. He'd been drafted. Again. Breit was going to just LLOOOVVVEEE this one. He sighed, swallowing heavily. He reallly needed a drink.

He stepped off the curb, to see a squat, flabby man with a barely-there comb-over come out the door of the bar. He instantly spotted something diagonally to Dave's left, pulled out a gun, yelled, "YER DEAD, CATHERINE BREIT! YER FINISHED!," and fired two shots. Dave ducked, reached for his gun in his shoulder holster, and looked to see who the madman was firing at. In shock, he saw it was a familiar face, Elizabeth March. He didn't bother to ask what was going on, he simply aimed at the fat man, and fired twice before the other man could shoot again.

The man crumpled to the street as he screamed in pain. Dave ran towards him, kicking away his gun, then turned and grabbed ahold of Liz as she charged at the man, knife ready to plunge into his chest.

"Whoa, Liz! It's okay. He's down. He's not gonna hurt you now." He yanked her back again when she tried to attack the man again. "Easy, there."

She screamed a stream of invectives at the man on the ground, ending with a barrage of Portuguese, which Dave vaguely translated in his mind, but didn’t bother trying to understand. Dave winced at the last epithet; he hadn't heard words come out of Breit's mouth like that in years. He patted her shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay, Liz. You're okay."

David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:12

She promptly turned on him. "And YOU!" She raised her fist, knife at the ready. "Don'tchyou give me that, 'It's okay, baby, stuff!' That idiota SHOT at me, per Dios!"

Dave backed up and held up his hands placatingly, seeing the two armed Navy Shore Patrol guards come up from the street behind her, guns out and aimed at her. "Okay, okay, Liz. I was wrong. But it's over now. Can you put the knife away, please?" He smiled disarmingly.

She glared at him, then at the man cowering in fear and pain on the sidewalk. "Vhy? Vhy should I?"

Dave nodded at the two Navy ensigns behind her back, "Because these guys are going to take care of your shooter. They'll find out why he was after you, and they'll let me know. And then I'll tell you. Okay? Will that work?"

Elizabeth seemed to be coming down from her rage, and seemed to be having a bit of trouble thinking. After a couple seconds, she nodded slowly, "Si, yes. That is, how you say, okay."

Dave lowered his hands, gesturing to one to the Ensigns to deal with the wounded man, and held out the other to Liz. "Will you put your knife away for now, please?" He smiled at her, careful not to anger her again.

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, then the knife disappeared back under her coat. "Si," she replied.

Dave slowly lowered his hands and breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you for that, Signorina." Reholstering his gun, he walked calmly towards her, and gestured towards the Tricky Mister, careful not to touch her this time. "Would you be willing to wait for me in the Mister? I'll only be a minute, I promise. Go ahead and order yourself a drink, and please tell Cyrus I'd like a double Bourbon, both on my tab, thanks." He saw her eyes narrow at that, and smiled inwardly, "I could really use a drink right about now, how about you?" At her slow nod, he replied, "And I'd never walk out of there alive if I let a lady pay for my drink, now could I?"

David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:49

At his steady smile and slow wink, she reluctantly grinned at that, "All right, si, you vin. I vill vait for tchou inside." And she turned and disappeared into the Tricky Mister.

No sooner had Liz stepped inside the bar than Dave stepped over to the sobbing invalid, temporarily forgotten until now, and hauled him to his feet. His tone turned from conciliatory to sharp instantly. "You! UP. NOW!" He took an Ensign's handcuffs, and cuffed the man's arms behind him, ignoring the man's cries about his arm and shoulder wounds. "What the HELL were you doing shooting at that woman for?" He asked grimly.

“That b***h's Catherine Breit, the head of the Circle of Light in Shanghai. Isabella Santanelli, the Dona of La Cosa Nostra, has a $10,000 bounty for anyone who offs her. D'you know how much that could buy me?" The guy was practically salivating at the thought, his pain temporarily forgotten.

Dave sighed and shook his head to himself. Liz had just had a closer call than she knew. He pushed the pudgy felon against the wall of the bar, searching him for other weapons. "You unbelievable moron! That woman's not Catherine Breit. She's also not Breit Katherine, though she bears a much more striking resemblance to her than she does to the Earthly Sponsor. I've met both of them, and you're way off track all round."

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